Liquorice
by Alpha Tigress 1221
Summary: In that moment, Key felt everything from before vanish, and something new took its place. The harsh, frigid dejection that coursed through his veins was replaced with a warm, comforting feeling. The pit of his stomach didn't swirl with doubt and apprehension, but spiked a bit as butterflies took its place.


Key sighed as he sat there on his bed, letting the evening wear away. He wasn't used to it; just sitting around doing nothing- but at this point, he was too upset to do anything. No amount of productivity could deter his mind from the strain that encased him in a deadly embrace. If anything, every step taken, the radiating soreness he felt throughout his body, was a constant reminder of his failure, which was why he chose to sit down in the first place.

Nothing anyone could do worked to cheer him up. No amount of effort could even distract him from the looming defeat hanging over his head. The heartfelt hugs and thoughtful, sweet words of the maknae, his infallible son, couldn't lift him from the pool of negative emotion he was currently drowning in. The playful banter and surprisingly compassionate consolement from his best friend, couldn't bring him out of the storm of hurt that swirled dangerously around him. Not even their leader, with his surprisingly inciteful advice and therapeutic smile, couldn't raise his spirits in the slightest bit. Nothing worked, and even more bitter negativity set in, collecting and swirling dangerously in the pit of his stomach.

Realizing all of their efforts were in vain, the other members gathered in the common room, unsettled by Key's current state and knowing there was nothing they could do to help. Their faces conveyed the collective worry, concern, and somewhat guilt they all felt. No one spoke; no one could find the right words to say. No one was used to or even prepared to see Key this way, and they figured talking about his shattered resolve would only be rude. An uneasy silence bathed the room, making the air shift in rolling waves.

Minho had been silent the whole time, lazily snacking as he mulled over what's happened. He hadn't made much of an attempt to comfort Key since he came in. But at the same time, what could he do? The others tried their best and only managed to get a few pained smiles out of Key at best, so what chance did he have? He sighed, taking another bite, feeling somewhat guilty he'd done nothing.

"Minho, you should talk to him," Onew's voice cut through the ever-thickening silence, snapping everyone out of their trances of despair. Minho looked up absentmindedly, pulled from his somewhat blank-minded state to an intensified reality.

"What would I say?" He asked in a matter-of-fact tone, his shrug offsetting his solemn expression.

"Anything. Just something to make him feel better," Onew told him as a response, a hint of desperation making its way into his tone.

"I-I don't know if I can," Minho's voice cracked; he hated seeing his hyung in so much pain. But if what the others did didn't work, how could he change anything?

"Just try Minho. I-I've never seen Key so upset before," Jonghyun's usually bold voice held an undertone of pleading and vulnerability, something Minho never heard from the older boy. But the look on Taemin's face, so forlorn and almost as destroyed as Key looked, set off a subtle yet prominent determination within him. Without another word, he grabbed his snack- figuring Key deserved a treat- and made his way to his room.

He heard a gentle, consistent sobbing coming from the room, even before he touched the knob of the door. Each sob he heard made a crack form in his heart, which only grew in severity as time went on. He didn't waste too much time, though, opened the door slowly, stepping carefully not to disturb him. Not that he'd be detected; Key was lost in his own miserable world.

He sat on his bed, clutching a pillow, tears consistently streaming down his reddening cheeks. His hair was disheveled beyond recognition, his chapped lips were parted to let out hot, gasping sobs that racked his body, and his eyes were red and puffy, remaining glossy with forming tears. All in all, he looked- broken, and it was highly unsettling for Minho to witness. For Key, the _Almighty _Key, who could do anything he set his mind to, falling victim to emotions that should be completely foreign to him. He stepped carefully into the room, not sure how to approach. Key snapped out of his sadness briefly once the bed shifted with someone else's weight.

"Go away, Minho," He muttered, sounding incredibly weak and powerless. That only broke Minho's heart even more, and he swallowed thickly, debating in his head on how to go about this. His gaze turned to the snack in his hand, and he remembered why he brought them in the first place. He tapped Key's shoulder, prompting him to look him in the eye. Reluctantly, the auburn-haired boy looked up, sniffing a bit as he stared at the treat Minho offered him.

"Want one?" Minho asked simply. Nodding, Key took the coil of candy, eyeing it a bit.

"What is it?" Key's voice was hoarse from crying, making him seem even more pitiful.

"Not quite sure. They call them-" Minho paused, eyed the foreign word on the bag, "-Twizzlers. They're liquorice candies," He explained, prompting him to try one.

Key took the offered candy, shrugging a bit before taking a bite. The sweet strawberry flavor coiled over his tongue like the rope of candy itself, seeming to melt a bit in his mouth. The flavor seemed to soothe the stinging sensation in his eyes, the tears shifting from the blistering heat of before to only a mildly uncomfortable lukewarm temperature. The intense emotional pain, while still prominent, whitled down slowly with each bite of liquorice. Once finished, Minho handed him another, and then another, each piece soothing his pain a bit more. It wasn't long before the two ate the whole pack, the empty plastic discared as they sat in Key's room, bathed in a serene silence for a few good moments.

Though the liquorice helped significantly, Key still felt a dull ache from the day's events. As if reading his mind, Minho pulled Key into a tight embrace, Minho's head resting on his own. A gentle heat emanated from the taller boy's form, swirling around him in a loose cocoon of warmth. Key turned his head a bit, staring into Minho's big brown eyes, eyes that spoke the volumes that would never reach his ears.

But they didn't need to. That was something that always fascinated him about Minho. He could be so quiet and reserved, almost shy, and yet his mere expression on his face seemed to say everything he had to, and then some. And as he gazed into those seemingly endless, caramel hazel eyes, he understood everything Minho had to say.

In those eyes, he saw the worry and concern he felt when Key first came home from the audition. He saw the slight anger and frustration with himself that he didn't help right away. He saw the admiration Minho had for him as a person, how he'd never give up, no matter what he did. And most of all, he saw the affectionate connection the taller boy had with him, and all the things he'd been trying to say for months about how much he cared about him.

In that moment, Key felt everything from before vanish, and something new took its place. The harsh, frigid dejection that coursed through his veins was replaced with a warm, comforting feeling. The pit of his stomach didn't swirl with doubt and apprehension, but spiked a bit as butterflies took its place. Suddenly, the thought of crying seemed completely ridiculous, and he really didn't understand why he was so upset in the first place.

"Thank you, Minho," He whispered, nestling his face into the crook of his neck. And like the intuitive person he was, Minho knew exactly what he needed to make the moment complete. He pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, and Key felt all the emotion Minho felt for him travel through the kiss, making his entire world feel faultless and untainted.

"Saraghae," Minho whispered, following Key into a blissful sleep.


End file.
